


Lyrical Genius

by taxingtaurus



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AUs, Drabbles, F/M, Inspired by Music, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxingtaurus/pseuds/taxingtaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arrow drabbles inspired by song lyrics. Mostly Olicity, unless otherwise specified.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lyrical Genius

**Author's Note:**

> A modern-day Bonnie and Clyde AU, inspired by the Adele cover of The Steeldrivers song, "If it Hadn't Been for Love".
> 
> Unfortunately I don't own Arrow or the song, but this work is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

_Never woulda hitchhiked to Birmingham_

_If it hadn’t been for love_

_Never woulda caught the train to Louisiana_

_If it hadn’t been for love_

_Never woulda run through the blindin’ rain_

_Without one dollar to my name_

_If it hadn’t been_

_If it hadn’t been for love_

 

When she sees him, she knows he’s trouble. But _God_ , does she love it.

She’s standing in line at the bank when he strolls in confidently, a suit jacket thrown over one shoulder. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up to the elbows and the two top buttons are undone. He sees her, flashes her a small smile and winks and… _yep,_ she’s so done.

When he strolls to the front of the line, no one has made a single complaint about him not waiting his turn, including Felicity. She can’t seem to find the motivation to do anything but stare, which seems to be the general reaction from the mostly female population at the bank this afternoon.

Her first thought had been that it must be illegal to look that good, and she almost releases a panicked laugh when within seconds his classy schoolboy demeanor is gone. He throws his suitcoat over the counter, revealing a .44 pistol that he points directly in the face of the cashier, smiling that smile that makes Felicity’s heart melt despite the fact that he’s clearly evil.

A woman in line screams and soon Felicity is crouched on the floor next to five other hostages as the man makes his demands.

“Five million dollars should do it,” he says to the cashier in a voice that completely oozes charm.

The teller is obviously afraid, frantically moving to gather stacks of cash and placing them in bags for the man, but Felicity can see that the redhead keeps sneaking glances at the handsome gunman. She can’t really blame her.

He casually leans over the counter and watches almost lazily as she counts the cash, like he can’t be bothered to hurry along the process, though Felicity’s sure the cops are on their way.

When the money is packed away and slid over the counter to the extremely attractive robber, Felicity realizes why he hadn’t bothered to hurry the girl along.

He moves to stand in front of her, crouching down to meet her eyes.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he says with a smile. “Want to go on a trip?”

She starts to protest, but he cuts her off.

“Of course you do. Let’s go.”

He wraps a hand around her forearm, and his grip is like iron. He maneuvers her around to stand in front of him, the gun pointed to her head as they walk out of the bank, into the pouring rain, and away from the cop cars filing around the block, without a care in the world.

“Try anything and she dies!” he casually throws over his shoulder, and before she knows it, she’s being forced into the passenger seat of a silver Porsche as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

When they’re a mile outside of Alabama, she feels relaxed enough to talk to him.

“Good thinking, babe,” she winks. “Small-town Alabama was genius. Slow emergency response, money in the bank, and cops too afraid to shoot near a lady,” she laughs, before her brows scrunch together the way they do when she thinks too hard.

“I think that’s a little offensive,” she decides in a huff. “They’d shoot at a man, right? I mean, maybe not the teller who was so obviously in love with you, but a cop would. But maybe they were worried because you’re so big? I mean, not like _big_ , you know, but like…big? Am I saying different words?”

Oliver looks at the concerned expression that adorns her face while she babbles, and can’t help but laugh. God, she’s gorgeous. And a genius. And adorable. And so many other things he honestly can’t believe that she’s with him; that she chose this life with him. His modern-day Bonnie Parker.

 

_Never woulda seen the trouble that I’m in_

_If it hadn’t been for love_

_Woulda been gone like a wayward wind_

_If it hadn’t been for love_

_Nobody knows it better than me_

_I wouldn’t be wishing I was free_

_If it hadn’t been_

_If it hadn’t been for love_

When they’re working a job in Louisiana, Felicity and Oliver are both holding tellers at gunpoint.

Oliver is back in his suit, and when he saunters between two tellers, flashing smiles as they gather money into bags, Felicity’s heart swoops in her chest.

She’s in a sundress and heels. Oliver had told her they were impractical, but she’s a lady, despite her chosen profession. Besides, she always wears heels. And she hasn’t been caught yet.

This time, though, the cops are much faster than they had anticipated. They’re on the scene in less than three minutes, and this time Oliver isn’t automatically saved by using her as a hostage.

A brave officer raises his gun before Oliver has the chance to knock it away from him, and suddenly there’s a blinding pain in his left side. Before he’s prepared for the impact, he hits the floor, and calls out for his Felicity. She’s already sobbing by the time she reaches him, crying for him like he’s all she has.

He realizes that he _is_ the last thing she has, just as she’s his. They’re _it_ for each other.

The thought of his girl living without him propels him forward, forcing himself to stand up and run before they’re caught.

He extends a hand for Felicity, but she’s not running with him. She’s being taken away.

He sees the cop that shot him lying in a pool of blood on the floor, and he knows she avenged him, just as he will her.

She’s being loaded into a police cruiser, but she won’t be in prison for long.

_Four cold walls against my will_

_At least I know he’s lying still_

_Four cold walls without parole_

_Lord have mercy on my soul_

The cop that shot Oliver is dead, and she’s sitting in a Louisiana prison. Her sundress has been traded for a grey jumpsuit, her heels for tennis shoes that feel awful on her feet. Her back is pressed against one of the four cold stone walls that make up her cell, but she’s not afraid.

Sentenced for life, no parole, but she laughs.

_Never woulda gone to that side of town_

_If it hadn’t been for love_

_Never woulda took a mind to track him down_

_If it hadn’t been for love_

_Never woulda loaded up a forty four_

_Put myself behind a jail house door_

She sits smugly in the back corner of her cramped cell. She knows she won’t be here for long. Her Clyde is coming for her.

_If it hadn’t been_

_If it hadn’t been for love_

**Author's Note:**

> The song is actually about a woman who ends up shooting her lover, but I thought this version would be more fun. As always, let me know what you think!


End file.
